


my hands are shaking from holding back from you

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: Romance Is Boring 'verse [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Ash Is Such A Soft Drunk, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: Ash is a clingy drunk, Roger has never seen her in a dress, it’s been months since they’ve seen each other at all, and yet they still can’t admit they’re in love.





	my hands are shaking from holding back from you

**Author's Note:**

> I just miss them interacting romantically okay?? And I spent too much time listening to Dress by Taylor Swift. Side story for ask your destiny to dance; set after the recording of A Night At The Opera.

Ash doesn’t drink, or rather, she prefers not to. She’s self aware enough to know how she gets when she’s drunk, and she doesn’t like who she is. Except sometimes she’s sitting at a table at the edge of a wedding reception, watching the way John’s tearing up a little as he gives a toast before he and Veronica cut their wedding cake, and her chest feels a little hollow despite how happy she is for him, and the first thing she finds to fill that void is a flute of champagne. 

Roger feels like he’s about to burst with pride when he watches John and Veronica take their first dance; swaying gently to the music, so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world falls away, so  _perfectly_ happy. There’s a crowd gathered around the edge of the dance floor, watching with adoring looks, slowly joining them as the music fades into a new song, and Roger takes the moment to head to the bar.

He doesn’t recognise her at first; she’s turned away from him, her usually bushy hair straightened and pulled into an intricate braid at the top of her head, and her heels are giving her a few inches of height, which he’s not used to, but then he hears her speak, hears her thank the bartender, and he feels his heart stop in his chest. He’s never seen her like this, looking soft and feminine, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen her in an actual dress, but here she is, wearing an emerald green, off the shoulder dress that flared out at the hip, hitting just above her knees. 

“I thought you were in America.” He sounds a little awed when he says it, and Ash turns, eyes wide, drink in hand. She blinks for a few times, as if she’s not sure if she’s seeing him right.  _God_ , she looks  _so fucking beautiful;_ Roger just holds his beer a little tighter.

“I got back on Monday.” She says, voice soft. It takes her a moment, as if she’s just heard herself, and she frowns down at her glass of wine. “Shouldn’t you be hitting on bridesmaids or something?” She asks after clearing her throat, avoiding his gaze.

“So you’re gonna be like that right off the bat?” He asked, the tension between them thawing as he rolls his eyes. After a beat, he let himself smile, just a little. “I’ve missed you.” And she’s smiling at that, blushing a little, finally meeting his gaze.

“I’ve missed you too.” And after a beat, she gives him an evaluating look, taking a sip of her wine before putting the glass on the bench and stepping forward, smoothing out the lapel of his suit, where it was sitting just a little strangely. “You look good, did you get this tailored?” She asks, and he has to laugh, of course it’s the first thing she notices.

“At Freddie’s insistence.” He agreed, and she looks up at him, her hands still on his chest, and she’s so close, looking up at him with that endeared smile that makes his heart melt just a little.

“I knew there was a reason I liked him so much.” She half laughs, stepping away, picking up her drink again and taking another sip. She wrinkles her nose at it, which just makes Roger laugh. “I don’t like wine, okay?” But she’s grinning despite herself, and she finishes off the glass.

“Why are you drinking it then?” He asked, and Ash flushed, putting her glass on the bar, mumbling something that Roger didn’t catch. At his confused look, she turned redder.

“I don’t know what I like.” She admitted. “I’m not a big drinker.” 

“Ash, you were a  _bartender_!” Roger crows, and Ash huffed, turning back to the bar. She’s halfway through ordering another wine when Roger takes gentle hold of her wrist, and her voice dies in her throat. He orders her a tequila sunrise, and she sighs with defeat. “The juice and grenadine takes the bite out of the tequila; it’s sweet.” He assured her, and Ash gave him a small, thankful smile. 

John and Veronica both give her big hugs when they make their way around, thanking her for being able to make it, and Ash apologises that she was almost late to the ceremony, but they wave it off with a bright smile. Freddie spins her around when she finds him on the dance floor, and Ash gives herself over to the music for a few songs, with Freddie by her side, the usually restrained Ash bopping and spinning to an upbeat jazz number, absolutely beaming as Freddie twirls her. Brian grins at her, wraps her in a tight hug and asks her about America, and about the tour, and if she has any plans because they’re all gonna need costumes when  _A Night At The Opera_  is a hit, and Ash is practically bouncing with excitement at the suggestion, and her eyes are shining so bright. 

When she’s not buzzing about, she’s usually with Roger, tucked up by his side, chattering away about everything and nothing, and Roger doesn’t think he’s heard her this chatty before, and then he realises he’s actually never seen her drunk like this. Actually, he’s seen her drunk once or twice, but not with so many people around, not in this situation, not from tequila. 

They’re sitting at a table at the edge of the room, not Ash’s original table, with two girls who are flicking little starry-eyed glances at Roger while listening to Ash’s story about something that had happened on tour, something about Elton in orange lycra, but Roger only has eyes for Ash. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, their chairs pushed together, and she’s so passionate in her recounting that it’s a little mesmerising, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. Without missing a beat or stopping her story, Ash reaches up, and he thinks she’s going to move his hand away, but she laces their fingers together, and leans into him a little more. When the story comes to an end, one of the girls asks Roger a question, and Ash rests her head against his shoulder as he answers, smiling softly.

“I’m going for a smoke.” He announces after a while, moving to stand. He knows Ash will go with him without even having to ask, and the girls they’d been talking to head for the bar instead. Once he’s up, he holds out his hand for Ash, and she takes it, grabs her drink to finish it in a big gulp with the other, and he leads her out to the balcony of the function room. She doesn’t let go of him, not because she  _couldn’t_ , she’s very stable, but because drunk-Ash is possessive, has been missing Roger for  _months_ and couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, and  _God_ , she just wants to tell him she loves him, but they’re at a wedding, and she thinks it might be weird. But he’s still holding her hand, and she doesn’t want him to let go.

She doesn’t smoke here, too preoccupied with the twinkling lights of the town below, leaning against Roger. He moves from holding her hand to wrapping an arm around her waist. She’s chattering away again, bright, earnest and unfiltered like she usually never allowed herself to be, and Roger is hit with the realisation that he never wants to stop hearing her voice.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress.” He says quietly, and Ash trails off with her story, making a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat.

“I don’t wear a lot of dresses.” She concedes after a moment, moving to face him, his hand moving to her hip as she was looking up at him, her eyes wide and thoughtful. He gives her a small smile, putting his cigarette between her lips, and she takes a drag, amused smile on her face. They’re practically nose to nose, waiting as Ash holds the smoke in her lungs for a few moments. When she turns to blow it away in a direction that wasn’t right in his face, he presses a kiss to her cheek. 

“You look absolutely stunning, love.” He murmurs against her ear, and Ash thinks she can feel her heart stop in her chest. Looking at him, there’s awe and unfiltered love in equal measure in her gaze.

“I thought you might like it.” She admits sheepishly, amused as she wiggles her hips a little, letting the bottom of the dress flutter around her thighs, and Roger chuckles, walking the two of them back a few steps until Ash’s back is pressed against the railing at the edge of the balcony. 

He looks like he’s about to say something, but Ash hops up so she’s sitting on the edge of the railing, his hands secure on her hips, her arms around his neck, and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against his.

“I’ve missed you.” 

She’s never said it before, not out loud, and Roger’s feels his breath catch in his throat.

“Really?” He asks, quiet, uncharacteristically serious, and Ash laughs a little, breaking the tension, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“Every time I go on tour with someone else, every time you’re off making an album, any time I have to go into hibernation because I’m working on a tour-line for you guys;” It’s so honest it hurts a little. “Of course I miss you, Rog.” And he’s kissing her, his arms around her, standing between her legs; she tastes sweet, a little smoky and she feels like home. She kisses him back hard, desperate and needy, hands in his hair, until she’s holding his face gently in her hands, and she breaks away. “I always miss you.” She admits, breathlessly, and she’s shaking a little, overwhelmed at the notion of what she was finally saying, and Roger’s smile is  _so soft_  where he’s looking at her. 

“We should go back inside.” He says, gentle, and Ash nods quickly. She moves to slide forward off the railing, but Roger’s barely stepped back and  _fuck,_ he can’t help but kiss her again, quickly. He takes her hand, laces their fingers together, and they head back inside where the reception is still in full swing. Freddie’s calling them over where he and Mary are chatting with Brian on a set of sofas around the corner from the bar, and Roger pulls Ash into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. None of the others even raise an eyebrow, they’re they all fairly tipsy as well. 

They stay like that for a while, Roger’s hand on her thigh as he talks, her cheek resting against his shoulder, the Ash that had been bursting with stories not half an hour ago having disappeared in favour of this quiet and content Ash. When the others leave, to dance or drink or socialise with other people, neither Ash nor Roger move, she kisses his neck softly.

“I’m sorry about Drunk Ash.” She says quietly, and Roger laughs, his grip on her thigh tightening a little, and she flushes, squirming at the sensation, though she’s not sure if he notices.

“What are you sorry about?” He asks, turning to look from the crowd, to where Ash is blushing an entertaining shade of pink. 

“She’s…  _loud_ , and clingy and-” Ash is frowning, self conscious, speaking about her current state like it was a separate person, but Roger brings his hand up to hold her chin, bringing her in for a soft kiss.

“I like her.” He says softly, and he’s pretty sure that Ash’s bashful smile is one of the most beautiful he’s ever seen. 

“She’s  _embarrassing_.” Ash tried to protest, but Roger’s kissing her again, grinning against her lips. She’s got a hand on his jaw, and his hand moves back to her thigh, pulling her closer to him, if possible, and it’s like he can feel the anxiety and worry leave her with his hands secure on her.

“Love,” and he knows the way the pet name effects her, how she bites her lip and shifts a little against him, “Drunk-You also worries too much.” 

When the reception is winding down, they head to his room, a few floors above in the hotel it had been held in. It’s small, barely room to swing a cat, but it doesn’t matter, Ash is pulling off her heels the moment she steps into the room, and something in Roger’s chest tightens when she tosses them to the side, and turns back to him, grinning up at him from a more familiar height.

Her fingers are graceful where she’s unbuttoning his suit jacket, sliding it carefully off his shoulders and sitting it gently on the chair in the corner of the room. When she comes back, he’s unbuttoning his cuffs, and he makes a motion for her to turn around, which she does obligingly, letting him unzip it, the dress hitting the floor unceremoniously. Ash stands like that for a moment, Roger’s hands on her hips, and he presses a kiss to her shoulder. She turns, expression reverential, and she catches his lips in a kiss, nimbly undoing the buttons of his shirt, unzipping his pants as he shrugs out of the shirt. 

They don’t sleep together, both too tired and tipsy to do little more than help each other out of their formal wear and make out on the duvet. It takes Ash almost five minutes to pull all the pins from her hair, and Roger just watches with a fond smile, the two of them chatting easily about what they’d been up to in the past few months, and then it’s free, messy but straighter than he’d seen it before, and when she joins him, just wearing her bra and panties, he takes a moment to run his fingers through her hair. It gets caught on a few knots and she yelps when he tries to tug it, but then they’re both laughing, and Ash is kissing him.

When she takes off her bra, she breathes a sigh of relief, and takes a moment to gently rub at the red marks the underwire had left, while Roger leans in to press a kiss to her chest. After a beat, she settles down beside him, laying on her side and resting her head on his chest, as he winds an arm around her, fingers settling at her hip.

“It’s good to have you home, Ash.” Roger says softly, and Ash, who already has her eyes closed, makes a hum of acknowledgement. After a beat, his other hand comes up to give one of her boobs a gentle squeeze, as if reassuring himself she was really there. It makes Ash giggle too; one of his favourite sounds in the world.

“It’s good to be home.”


End file.
